A moment of quiet, into which they both breathe.

Emma stops gnawing her lip, walks back toward the truck, knowing Bell will follow. In the pickup, Kristin Gutmunsson’s hands are splayed on the bench seat as if she’s trying to glue herself down.

“I’m coming with you. I won’t let you—”

“Kristin, it’s fine.” Emma leans on the rolled-down passenger window. “We talked about it, we decided you can come.”

“You’ll really let me come?” Kristin’s big eyes glisten. “Simon is… I know he can be awful, but I want to help my brother. I want to be there for him.”

“It’s okay, but listen, Kristin—you have to follow our lead. This will be dangerous.” So dangerous. Emma swallows, presses on. “If you can’t follow instructions, we really can’t bring you along. We just can’t.”

“I can follow instructions!” Kristin clasps her hands together. “Oh, thank you! And there’s something else I have to tell you. Not about Simon—about the Butcher.”

“What’s that?” Emma exchanges a glance with Bell through the other window of the car.

“It’s just impressions. From the photos you showed me, and the reports I’ve been following… Like, I know the Butcher wants to be in control of things. And I think he likes knives over guns.”

Emma frowns. “Why do you say that?”

“He didn’t kidnap the teenagers at gunpoint, did he? He knocked them out with some drug—”

“Ether,” Bell supplies. “That’s right.”

“So I think he’s less comfortable with guns. And he’s very particular. He has the victims arranged just so, the way he likes them.… I think he’ll know what the inside of the asylum looks like.”

Emma pauses. “Again—why?”

“He’s a very careful, meticulous person who makes precise plans. If you’re planning something, you have to know the location it will all happen.” Kristin nods, confirming to herself. “He’ll know the inside of St. Elizabeths. He’ll have a schematic, or a map of the fire exits or something.” Her fingers twine together. “You may not need any of that information, but if it helps you, or if it helps Simon…”

“Okay,” Emma says. “Thank you for sharing that. Now I need to ask one more time—are you sure you want to come with us? You don’t want to stay in my car, where it’s safe?”

“No,” Kristin says, resolute. “If I wanted safe, I would have stayed at Chesterfield. I don’t want safe. I want my brother.”

Emma catches Bell’s eye. They meet again near the front grille of the truck.

Bell seems unsure. “What do you make of all that?”

“I don’t know.” Emma keeps her voice low. “But she had good insight about the Berryville scene, and she lived with a killer almost her entire life. She’s got an instinct for it—better than mine. Her information may not be useful, but you never know.”

“Okay.” Bell gazes back toward the ballpark’s outfield. “So we need to sneak into an asylum and grill a sociopathic liar for information while making sure he doesn’t engineer a jailbreak. And we also have to avoid another multiple murderer, who—according to Kristin—might know the asylum better than we do.”